Monday, September 27, 2010

waiting for the click

that click in my head . . .

and trying to remember who said that
while waiting at the light
in front of the fire house
i look into the fireman's kitchen and its lit
and neat and the coffee maker seems to be
waiting like the two fireman
who are bent over a meal
at the window
their broad shoulders
and flat brows
similar, like brothers
they are always ready i suppose
waiting for the bell to go off
while i am waiting for that click
in my head

and on the road home
near the water treatment plant
i see fire
small and shouting orange
brilliant on this
our first gray fall evening
the flames undulate
in a hibachi
on a covered porch
the rain coming down in sheets
off the small tin roof
someone has just lit the coals
and they're back inside now
behind the screen door
there's a flash of tv blue
the arsonist is
watching the news
putting pepper on a cold raw steak
opening a beer
waiting for the click
maybe
too

and then i remember
when i'm just past
the krishna temple and over the highway
i look west
and the lanes below
are a world of water
and mist
and trucks from far off lands
and i remember—
it was Newman
in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof
that's how it is Maggie
that's how it is . . .

1 comment:

T.S. Dogfish said...

Your poetry is like a gift to me.